


Class

by viceindustrious



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceindustrious/pseuds/viceindustrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom!Aristocrat!Coward</p>
            </blockquote>





	Class

There's something about Blackwood's eyes that makes your top lip curl back from your teeth in scorn, makes your fingers itch to tip his chin up, sneer as you tap his face from one side to the other, press into his mouth and push his tongue down and inform him graciously that really, hadn't he better get on his knees now?

 _That's it, good boy, down.  
_  
That deep viridian will disappear behind lowered, bashful lashes. Oh there is hazel there, certainly, the mark of Rotheram's noble bloodline but Henry is far from a thoroughbred. His whore of a mother puts paid to any pretensions of aristocracy he might hold quite completely. A very pretty mongrel, but a mongrel nonetheless. 

Your family has its roots in the plantagenet kings of old. You don't have money, you have  _wealth_. You have a  _name_. 

 _There you go, Henry. These shoes are worth more than your bastard blood aren't they? Funny how your mother died in childbirth, you know she made her living spreading her legs, don't you? Yes, just nod, don't speak. How does one address one's betters, hmmm?_

There's something about Henry's eyes that makes you want to fashion blinders for him. Attach him to your leash. Your loyal servant, your faithful pet with all the ruthless hunger of the grasping proletariat and the carriage, the tongue and bearing of a Lord. 

 _Well you might have been a shoe shine boy, Henry. No, no, your tongue will do, don't you think? You're beginning to get ideas above your station. We both know where you're happiest, don't we?  
_


End file.
